The Sun and the Rose
by ultimatedramaqueen
Summary: The blood of the Aiel is said to flow through the veins of the Queens of Andor . This may be true or only speculation. Red hair and light eyes. How it came to be. The sun for the Sun Throne of Cairhien and the rose for the Rose Crown of Andor...
1. Prologue

This story is set long before the story of Rand, Moirane, Morgase, or any of the characters in the Wheel of Time. About several centuries before all that.

* * *

**Prologue:**

"Quickly, Uncle! Before they close the gates." A young woman was beckoning to a man who looked twice her age. Behind him were two other men, this time closer to the young woman's age but both still slightly older than her. They were all nearing the main gates of the city of Cairhien. It was getting dark and the gates were always closed by nightfall to prevent anyone from entering or leaving, whichever the King preferred at that moment. The present king was Hananiel of House Damodred. He was greatly feared but otherwise just. House Damodred had only recently come into power but Hananiel proved to be what the kingdom needed.

The four made it in just in time for the gates to swing shut. One of the young men glared at the woman and said, "Zihanne (pron. _Zee-ha-neh_), I am not doing that again; that was cutting it close; we should have remained in the _stedding_ for one more night."

The woman glared back at her brother, for that was what the young man was, and said, "If we had stayed one more day, we would have arrived by tomorrow, too late to arrive at the time the festival will be starting. They say that this year is different; it will be better than any in our lifetime, at least that is what I have heard..."

A voice cut in, "That is enough you two. We need to find an inn. It has been a harsh journey since we have come all the way from the Three-fold Land."

The siblings stopped their banter and said meekly, "Yes, uncle."

The older man chuckled and turned to the other young man who had not said anything the whole time, "Rhaoun (pron. _Ra-oon_), which inn did we stay in the last time we came?"

Rhaoun answered, "It was The Great Tree, father. Though I'm sure Uriel can lead us there better than I can." He looked pointedly at Zihanne's brother, who was also his cousin.

Uriel turned down a street and led them to an inn with a tree painted onto its sign. The four entered. Uriel spoke to the innkeeper, "I'll have two rooms with two beds in each."

The innkeeper led them into two rooms. Uriel and Zihanne shared one, while Rhaoun and his father shared the other.

* * *

The first morning of the festival dawned bright and clear and the streets were filled even before the sun was fully up. Ghalhadad strode down the streets wrapped up in an worn cloak with his hood pulled up to cover most of his face. There was still something he had to do before the festival and it would not help his haste if he was suddenly recognized. He shivered but not because of the weather. He thought, _if father wants me to choose a wife I will choose one but on my own terms. Let's see what he has to say about that. He did not specify what she should be like, only that I must choose her and within the week of the festival_.

Ghalhadad stopped outside a shop. He carefully entered and was jovially greeted by the owner, a blacksmith named Caspar.

The blacksmith's voice boomed, "Ah, Master Ghalad, I have your order ready."

The big man led Ghalad to the smithy situated at the other end of the shop. Taking something down from a shelf, Caspar held the bundle delicately. It was encased in fine leather. "Here it is. One of my finest works. Fit for a king or queen."

Ghalad unfolded the bundle and carefully inspected the weapons that he had Caspar make. His eyebrows raised when he saw a symbol etched on the handle of a dagger. "What is this, Caspar? A sun and rose. I have never seen such a symbol."

"Oh that. I had my wife Selda put that. Master Ghalad, if you are to present this to your lady, she will need a sign, seeing she may not come from a noble house."

Ghalad's eyes flashed, "And who told you that I would be presenting this to such a person?"

Caspar looked taken aback, "Not meaning any disrespect, my lord, but I was informed by your manservant that you would be taking a wife, and you wanted weapons crafted that had to be fine, delicate, yet useful."

Ghalad sighed, "There you go again, Caspar. It's Ghalad. I guess I am to blame for losing my temper. I believe Lugan means well, but I believe that next time this manservant of mine says such a thing, don't believe him immediately."

"Yes, Master Ghalad. My lord will you still be taking these then, the lady will like them very much, I'm sure."

Ghalad smiled in spite of himself, Caspar was a loyal man but sometimes knew him too well. "Yes, I will." Ghalad continued to inspect the other weapons—a bow made of lightweight metal, long knives, several more daggers, and finally a beautiful sword. All had the sun and rose etched on them. He tested the weight and balance of the sword and nodded his approval, "You've outdone yourself this time, my friend. And one more thing, the locket. Where is it? I asked Selda to make one."

"Oh, yes, of course," from the same shelf as the weapons, Caspar took a small metal box. There were beautiful engravings on it but inside the lid was also the engraving of a sun and rose. Ghalad lifted the locket out and gasped, the locket was ornamented with beautiful crystals that caught the light and at the center was a sapphire as blue as the sky on a clear day and as bright as the moonlight. The sapphire was placed next to a ruby just as brilliant. The crystals formed a pattern around the sapphire and the ruby and there was the sun and rose. Ghalad took his eyes away from the locket and asked, "Is there the special compartment I asked for?"

Caspar gently pressed a part of the locket and out sprang a small box, big enough to place a small note or flat object about the size of a man's thumbnail. Ghalad grinned, "Very good, Caspar. Please send my compliments to Selda, this has to be the most exquisite piece I have ever seen."

"Ah, Selda wanted to make it special like so you could pass it on to your children. I told her that it would impress you but she was still not as satisfied until she put the engraving at the back. See for yourself, Master Ghalad."

Caspar turned the locket over and pointed at the words engraved on the back.

_I give you the sun and the rose._

_The sun to hold you fast to what is_

_fair, bold, and true._

_The rose to show you the way, _

_give you the strength, and grant you _

_the love to always start anew._

The letters were tiny but clear. "You do not need to worry that it will wear away, Selda did one of her Reader tricks." Readers in Cairhien could sometimes channel the female half of the One Power, _saidar_, and though those that could really channel were rare, Selda who could really channel was adept at doing things that did take away many household inconveniences.

Quickly leaving the shop with his bundle in tow, Ghalad hurried to dress up for the festival; he needed to be there when the beginning of the festival was formally declared.

* * *

"Zihanne! Slow down!" If the crowd had been watching all the foreigners they would have noticed two tall and handsome young men with light hair and eyes running after a young woman with auburn hair and laughing gray eyes. She was strikingly beautiful even with her loose clothing that hid her curves and the color of the clothing which seemed like it was meant to make her blend with the surroundings. She was also tall compared to many of the women in Cairhien.

Zihanne just laughed and strode even faster towards the square where the festivities would start when the sun was positioned at its peak, signaling midday. Enjoying herself, she did not notice a man turning around a corner. He seemed occupied and in a hurry. They went down with a crash and the man desperately dove for a bundle that was falling. Zihanne saw his face and caught the bundle, falling back with a thump due to the unexpected weight of the bundle. _What is in this?_, she thought. The man looked so relieved that it was rather comical to see his face, which was not unpleasant in any way. He was the perfect embodiment of tall, dark, and handsome. He had mysterious dark eyes with long lashes framing them and a strong jaw that kept him looking masculine, for without it he would have been called pretty.

The man stood up, took the bundle from her, and thanked her profusely. Zihanne just laughed then smiled. The man stopped talking and suddenly asked, "Lady, what is your name?"

Zihanne laughed again and said, "I am no lady, my lord. And you may call me Avendra." With that said she winked at him and seeing him start with surprise, laughed again and vanished into the crowd.

* * *

Ghalad reached his rooms and sighed, leaning against the door. He was smitten now. That woman, Avendra, she was so beautiful and her laugh set his heart beating. She was rather strong since lifted the weapons without much difficulty after her initial shock at the weight of the bundle. And her eyes they were sharp, witty, and intelligent. _If only I can find her again. I wouldn't mind picking a wife if it could be her. _His mind was jumbled and he jumped at a sudden knock on his door.

He opened it and admitted his sister Lavania in. She was a petite young woman with a pretty face and a cheerful smile. Ghalad loved her more than any of his other siblings since she, in truth, was his only full-blooded sibling. They were both the children of King Hananiel's beloved wife, Ahmina. Their mother had passed away a few years after Lavania was born and the king had been forced to marry other women to consolidate his power in the kingdom, but among all his wives—many died in childbirth and he had been forced to remarry many times—, he loved only Ahmina. Ghalad and Lavania were naturally the favorites and were the eldest children, therefore destined to inherit the throne. Ghalad was older and was therefore Heir Apparent. The king's current wife, Shavani, was better than the others; she was kind and treated them like her own children when she found out that she was unable to bear any and would only serve as a connection between the House of Damodred and the House of Riatin.

"What are you thinking, Ghalad?" His sister could always sense it when his thoughts were in turmoil.

Trying for casualness, he answered calmly, "Oh nothing much, Vania. Only a girl." Ghalad winced as soon as those words left his mouth. Vania was grinning now, "Ghalhadad Damodred is in love? Oh this is a miracle. When do I get to meet her. She must be special indeed to catch your attention on such short notice. You definitely weren't like this yesterday, so you must have just met her today." Vania was giggling badly already. She was only like this around him and only when she was extremely excited.

"Vania." Ghalad gave her a warning look, which silenced her immediately though a few more smirks did leave her innocent face. Sighing, he dragged a hand through his hair. "I better get dressed now and, Vania?" he waited for her to nod, "Not a word of this to anyone. If I hear something about this you will regret it." Ghalad tried to look his fiercest and must have succeeded for Vania only nodded meekly. He turned around and therefore missed a mischievous look in her eyes.

She suddenly said, "Ghalad? How tall is she?"

Ghalad looked at her as if she had just grown two more heads, "Why do you ask?"

"So I can prepare many dresses for her. It will be my wedding present to her. I think I'm going to like her, you know. You do not like women who swoon and try to flirt with you subtly. I think you like her because she is bold and spirited, just like me."

Ghalad shook his head smiling, "Sister dear, I believe it is time for you to get out and if you are wondering how tall she is I'd say she stands up to my jaw. Happy now?"

With a nod and a winning smile, Lavania left allowing him to dress in peace.

* * *

King Hananiel stood on a dais. On his right was his son Ghalhadad and on his left was his daughter Lavania. All the people watched as the king stepped forward and proclaimed the start of the festival. People cheered wildly but when the king held up his hand, there was silence, silence and more silence. Everywhere the people paused in their shouts and cheers.

The king looked at the crowd and beckoned his son to come forward. Hananiel spoke once more, "People and visitors of Cairhien, my son Prince Ghalhadad is of age to choose a bride. He will choose her within the week of the festival. So young ladies, good luck." The king and his son stepped back and were immediately surrounded by their personal guard and they along with the princess were escorted to a booth with three chairs.

Ghalad knew which woman he would choose and found it amusing when many young women "subtly" passed by the front of the booth and showed off their classical noses, finely-shaped eyebrows, and some unashamedly wearing bodices that showed too much cleavage for his liking or any decent man's in fact. A tall girl at the other end of the square caught his eye. She was laughing that beautiful laugh he remembered. If only protocol did not hold him back he would have run to her and proposed by now. Well, not proposed but conversed. What was he thinking! How would he be so sure she would accept, she was free. What girl like her would give up her freedom for the chains of the royal family? Well, many of course but he was sure she was not among the many. She was special and he knew it.

* * *

"Zihanne...Oh Zihanne...Hello?..." Zihanne shook herself. She had been daydreaming about him again. Annoying man! He did not tell her that his blasted name was blasted Ghalhadad. And she even thought she had a chance! Not that she didn't of course. Uriel interrupted her thoughts...again, "Zihanne, why have you been staring at the king and his family since they arrived? What's so interesting about that old man?" Zihanne looked scandalized, "What old man? Is the young woman over there his sister?"

"The sister of the king? Of course not! Wait, you mean the prince? Ohhhh..." realization hit his face, Uriel gave his sister a knowing look. Zihanne stared back evenly, "What is that face for, _young _man?"

"Who are you calling young man, _little _sister?"

"Little sister? Oh, I'll show you who's little. Come here!" She started rolling up her sleeves, intentionally leaving off the black veil. He may be annoying and sometimes worth killing, but he's still family and killing him would only get her a few scandalized looks and a few thank yous then nothing. It was not worth it if people would not worship her for killing him.

Uriel stepped back and said, "What did you tell him your name was?"

Zihanne looked blank for a moment, "What? Oh, I told him that he could call me Avendra."

"You lied when you told him your name?"

"No, I did not. I only said that he was allowed to call me Avendra. I did not say it was my name."

"Oh...Zihanne, look at me and don't turn back."

"Why?! Oh no, oh no. Who's standing behind me?"

A voice spoke. It was the same voice that she had heard earlier on in the morning. That same smooth, velvety voice, "Zihanne? Is that your real name, Lady Avendra?"

Zihanne spun around to face him, "I am not a lady, _Your Highness_."

The Prince's face fell, "Oh, I thought you would be happy to see me. Are you angry at me for not telling you my name? I'm sorry, I was too shocked by your loveliness, my lady."

His voice and face were so contrite that she could not help but forgive him. "It is alright, Your Highness. I was just shocked...by your name."

Zihanne could not tell what the Prince was thinking when he spoke with a voice that held no emotion, "I see. I do sincerely hope that you will enjoy your stay at Cairhien, Lady Zihanne."

"If you call me Lady Zihanne one more time, Your Highness, I'll Your Highness you until you choke on the words."

Uriel put a hand on her shoulder and said in a strangled voice, "Zihanne."

Zihanne looked at her brother sweetly, "Yes, darling?" Even with her sweet expression, she looked as dangerous as a tigress.

Ghalad cleared his throat, "I must be interrupting something here. Please excuse me."

Zihanne waved her hand in dismissal, quite like a noble, "Nonsense. You are not interrupting anything, Your Highness. I apologize for my rudeness. This is Uriel. Don't mind our bickering; he just does it because he thinks it's fun."

"Oh, there you are Ghalad! And who are these people?" A young woman popped up beside the Prince. It was the woman who had sat beside the king. Addressing Zihanne, she held out her hand, "How do you do, I'm Vania. You must be the girl Ghalad was talking about. You should have heard him; you'd think he was lovesick or something like that." Vania spoke casually though Ghalad was shooting glares at her and nudging her to be quiet.

Zihanne shook Vania's hand and looked amused, "Oh is that so? He does not seem ill. In fact, he looks very healthy, a little flushed, but healthy nonetheless. By the way, I'm Zihanne."

"Zihanne. Is that Aiel?"

Zihanne laughed, "Oh no. I am Aiel, but the name 'Zihanne' has Saldaean origins."

"You are Aiel," the statement came from Ghalad. There was something calculating in his eye and he seemed pleased with himself.

It was Uriel who answered this time, "We are of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel. We are here with my cousin and uncle to see the festival. We were told by the Tuatha'an that this year's celebrations would be special."

"Have you been enjoying yourselves so far?" Ghalad spoke like the host of a celebration.

Zihanne piped up, "Yes! Very much."

Ghalad couldn't help but smile. "I do hope you will continue to enjoy yourselves, and if you would care to attend there is a dance tonight that all the people can join. There will be a bonfire and singing and all those things. I do hope you will be able to go." His entreaty was directed towards Zihanne more than anyone else. She laughed and replied, "Of course we will go, Your Highness. Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"That's wonderful. We'll see you then. Come on Vania, Father's calling for us. One more thing Lady Zihanne. Please call me Ghalad, not Your Highness."

The answer came out almost automatically, "Only if you call me Zihanne, not Lady."

Ghalad grinned, "It's a deal then, _Zihanne_." Zihanne just laughed.

* * *

Hananiel looked at his children. Ghalad was grinning as though he was unable to stop and Vania looked thoughtful and had a small smile on her face. They were growing up so quickly, and soon Ghalad would have a wife, he had made sure the boy promised him to look for one. He had never known his son to break a promise, so he must be looking or planning something.

Stepping down from the booth his guards and children followed him home.

* * *

Vania followed Ghalad into his room. He seemed too lost in thought to notice. He was still grinning like a madman. That girl really did something to him. She was beautiful alright. And lively. She also seemed more intelligent than she let on. It must have been her laugh though that got Ghalad enthralled.

She decided to talk to him before he walked into a wall, "Ghalad, what are you smiling about?"

Ghalad paused in mid-stride, "Zihanne." He sighed happily. "You remember Father said I had to come up with a plan that would help me choose my bride? She's perfect. I was planning to test the women to see their fighting skills. She's Aiel right? So she'll definitely excel. She should also be educated. She is. Did you see how she acted? She carried herself like someone who has read much or seen much."

"If that's done, you should rest. The festivities tonight may last till tomorrow morning." Vania did not look surprised at anything her brother said. She had already figured it out.

* * *

The light from the bonfire and the many lanterns placed at regular intervals around the large square illuminated the square and set the place aglow.

Zihanne walked through the crowds. She was wearing a dress, to her relatives' surprise. It was to serve as a disguise. She wanted to see the festivities but hoped no one would recognize her. Ghalad had taken an interest in her, but she was Aiel and it simply was not done that the daughter of the clan chief of the Taardad Aiel get too close to a prince without any intention of being wed to him. Not that she disliked the idea that she be wed to him, but she would probably be one of the last people he would ask to be his bride. So here she was standing in a beautiful green dress with delicate embroidery and designs that hugged her figure and complimented her skin color, trying to _not_ get his attention. Unfortunately she was getting too much attention from other men. Too much unwanted attention.

A man suddenly put his arm around her. He spoke to her and his breath smelled of beer. "How's about we do something fun, sweetheart."

Zihanne shoved him away, "No thank you."

The man was obviously very drunk and very dense since he latched himself onto her again, "Aw come on. No need to be so shy."

"I said no." Zihanne made her voice severe and cold.

The man, obviously really dense, did not let go and proceeded to pull her away.

"Let me go! I don't want to cause a scene! Let go!"

A burly man stepped in front of the drunkard, "I think she said she's not interested. Or do I have to show it to you." He rubbed his hands together.

Glaring, the drunk man finally understood. Letting go of her, he stepped back into the crowd ready to look for someone else.

Rubbing her wrists, Zihanne turned to the man who had come to her rescue, "My thanks, Master Blacksmith. You are the blacksmith, are you not?"

"Yes, I am. Why didn't you scream for help? Anyone would have understood and would have come to help you."

"It's not that. I can take care of myself. If I wanted him dead, he would be even before he could say his name. I just didn't want to cause a scene."

The blacksmith studied her for a moment then held out his hand, "Caspar Grehvel."

Zihanne shook his hand, "Zihanne of the Taardad Aiel."

"Ah, that explains it. The Aiel no doubt do not like calling attention to themselves."

"It's not that either. Though that is true of most Aiel, I'm not most Aiel."

"You're hiding from someone?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes."

"If I may ask, is it a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes."

"Most definitely yes."

"So you have met Master Ghalad."

Zihanne made a face, "He doesn't like people being formal with him doesn't he? But he's always formal with others."

"I'll wager ten gold marks that he was like that because he was smitten with you."

"That's what everyone says," Zihanne grumbled to herself.

"Mayhap it's the truth. And if I'm not mistaken that's him coming toward us."

Panic flitted onto Zihanne's face. "Oh no. He can't see me."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to fall in love with him," before the words were fully out, Zihanne was wishing to take them back.

Caspar raised an eyebrow, "Well, my dear. It seems like it's already happened, the way you're acting."

* * *

The smooth, velvety voice that belonged to none other then the Prince greeted Caspar enthusiastically, "Ah, Caspar. Enjoying yourself, I see. Selda won't be too jealous I hope seeing you with another woman."

"None sense, Master Ghalad. Selda won't be jealous. This young lady's already taken with someone else."

"Oh?" Ghalad turned towards the young woman standing beside the blacksmith. "Pardon me, lady, but..." his voice trailed of as his eyes met those of the woman. "Zihanne?" It came out in a half-whisper.

Zihanne blushed, "Hello, Ghalad. I didn't think you would recognize me."

Ghalad cleared his throat, "I almost didn't. You look wonderful!"

Zihanne laughed, "That's what you keep on telling me. I don't think I believe you anymore." She glanced at him playfully.

Suddenly Ghalad grinned, "Dance with me." He grabbed Zihanne's hand

"What?"

"You heard me. Caspar, we'll see you later." Ghalad ran off with Zihanne in tow.

Caspar just laughed to himself. His wife joined him, she had been standing behind him in the shadows, listening. She spoke with a smile, "I knew that the sun and rose would fit the Prince's chosen bride. I think it truly does. And if their daughters prove to be like the mother, it will be even more fitting."

Caspar laughed, "Only don't let them hear you say that. I think those two will deny it to the end just to prove something."


	2. Hewin

**Chapter 1: Hewin**

Gedwyn knocked on his sister's door. "Avendra, it's time for Hewin (_pron._ Hyoo-win) to leave. It is Father's and Mother's wish that we see him off!" He heard a scraping sound from the room, like someone was dragging a chest across the floor, then his sister yelling, "I'm coming, brother. Give me one moment to arrange my things before I forget where I've placed them." Gedwyn was quite used to her odd behavior; she had been like this since she was strong enough to push a chest across the floor on her own. Those chests were huge! But she had always been stronger than she looked, an advantage for her really.

The door opened. Avendra stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, quickly falling in step with her second brother who was three years older than her. She had turned fourteen a few weeks ago but already had many admirers due to the fact that she, along with her two older brothers, had inherited both of their parents' looks. In fact, Gedwyn knew that his sister was probably one of the most beautiful women in the world. Avendra was aware of her looks but unlike Hewin, who was twenty, and Gedwyn, who was seventeen, she never seemed to let on that she knew of it, indulging herself with "secret" rides outside on her stallion named _Gaiel_ every night and reading every single book she could get her hands on. She loved reading to a point that she had read _History before the Age of Legends_ more than ten times! He did not know what she saw in that book. It was quite boring really—full of intrigue but also full of failures and successes of the rulers of old. Who would want to read about King Furron and how he established a very effective system of taxation anyway? In his opinion, his sister was too much of a plotter for her age and sex.

They had soon reached the courtyard where there was a hustling and bustling of many servants and guards. Hewin was already seated on his horse, ready to ride for Tar Valon; he wanted to train to be a Warder. If not a Warder, then at least a good swordsman. Come to think of it, it would not be such a good idea for Hewin to tell everyone whether he planned to become a Warder. Too many _Aes Sedai_ of the Green Ajah would be after him. In two or three years, Gedwyn would have to follow in his brother's footsteps. To say he was apprehensive was an understatement. His grandfather had only ascended to the throne several years before he was born, about ten years in fact; and he had become king not by inheritance but by usurpation. Cairhien had no king when Hananiel had taken the throne. So he knew that they were too new in the world of politics to be caught up too deeply in the Game of Houses, _Daes Dae'mar_, but it was the inevitable. Avendra no doubt was brilliant at it. But Gedwyn was only good enough—if lucky in the company he chose, loyal friends who would stand up for him if the need arose,—to stay alive if there was dire need to survive through outwitting others in the game. Hewin was already considered quite good at it if not as good as Avendra by even a hair, but Gedwyn knew his older brother was well-respected and also quite adept at pulling strings when the occasion called for it.

Gedwyn clasped hands with Hewin and wished his older brother a safe journey. Avendra stood waiting to wish Hewin well. Gedwyn stepped aside to let his sister bid Hewin farewell. To everyone's surprise, Avendra hugged Hewin's middle, she was still quite short and only reached both of her brothers' chests. There were tears in her eyes and she said, "Come back to us, Hewin. If you don't see me again, I'll make you wish you never left." Hewin laughed and hugged her back; Avendra would always be considered the baby of the family. Their parents, Prince Ghalhadad and his wife Zihanne, thought her faultless to such a point that they turned a blind eye to her nightly excursions to the palace stables.

Hewin cupped Avendra's face in his hands and kissed her forehead, "Do not worry, Avi. I'll come back...I hope." Avendra glared at him and Hewin laughed, "Alright, I'll come back for sure. And that's a promise." Stepping back Avendra stood by Gedwyn, her parents, and grandfather (her step-grandmother had passed away five years ago) as Hewin mounted his horse and his horse trotted forward followed by the horses of his escort to Tar Valon—twenty men who were the elite of the King's Guard.

At the gates, Hewin turned and looked at them, his silhouette was shown against the setting sun. He waved and was gone.


	3. Zihanne

**Chapter 2: Zihanne**

* * *

Zihanne stumbled as she walked through the halls. Her husband, Prince Ghalhadad, caught her and looked at her worriedly.

"Love, you haven't been getting any sleep lately. What's wrong? Are you falling ill?" He held a hand to her forehead.

Taking his hand off, she answered curtly, "I am fine. Just tired."

Ghalhadad frowned, "I knew it. You haven't been sleeping well since Avendra turned fourteen several weeks ago. What is wrong? You can tell me."

"It's nothing." Zihanne made an effort to sound indifferent.

Her husband was not so convinced. "Please, Zihanne. I am worried."

Zihanne sighed and led him to their rooms. Once inside, she looked her husband in the eye and said, "Ghalad, do you remember the time when my mother came to talk to me twenty years ago?"

Ghalad frowned and said, "Somehow I do recall something of the sort. Only your mother marched in as if she owned the palace. What did she do?"

Zihanne wearily sat on the bed. "Ghalad, I have kept something from you all these years."

Ghalad looked hurt but nonetheless nodded asking her to proceed.

Zihanne continued, "My mother is a Wise One. The Wise Ones always look for girls to train as Wise Ones also. I was chosen. But I did not want to so I ran away. My brother, my uncle, and my cousin only followed trying to coerce me into returning home. But I would not. And it would be dishonorable if they dragged me home by force for I had no weapons with me. So when we arrived, I hoped to slip away from them after or during the festival. But then..." She trailed off.

Ghalad finished the sentence for her, "But then I met you. It's alright, love. But why should this matter bother you?"

"That's not the whole story. You remember how my mother came and spoke to me? She left only when I had made an agreement with her."

Ghalad felt dread at the pit of his stomach, "Zihanne, what did you promise her?"

Zihanne did not answer; she only stared at her feet.

Ghalad held her chin and made her look at him, "Zihanne, what did you agree to give her?"

Still she did not answer.

Ghalad asked once more, feeling more and more desperation creeping upon him, "Zihanne. Please tell me."

Zihanne murmured something unintelligible.

Ghalad asked, "What?"

His wife raised her voice, "I said I agreed to go to become a Wise One when the children we're old enough to fend for themselves."

"**What!**" There was no mistaking the pain and anger in Ghalad's voice. "Zihanne, _why_?" His voice took a pleading tone.

With tears on her face, Zihanne answered, "I had no choice! It was either leave immediately or after the children were born and grown up. It would have been easier to leave immediately, but I wanted to have children with you. I wanted to raise them with you, so I said yes I would leave after they had grown up. I've been having dreams. They're calling me back, Ghalad. I can't do it. Avendra is still too young. I cannot leave her to all the wild beasts here in court. But I cannot take her away from everything she knows. Someday she will be great. I know it. If I take her with me, she cannot shine where she is strongest."

"No, my heart. You cannot leave without her. If you must leave, at least take her with you. Please." His voice cracked; he tried to keep his broken heart to himself.

Zihanne held his face in her hands, "Oh, Ghalad! I do not want to leave you, ever. But this promise must be kept. They say I can learn to walk the dreams. Perhaps we may speak that way." She held her hand over his heart, "I will always be here, remember? No matter what. That's what I promised, right?"

Ghalad tried to smile. "Yes. And I will always be yours, Zihanne." He held her close and tried to fix her face in his heart.

Zihanne murmured against his chest, "I will try to visit. Please keep the sun and rose for me."

Ghalad looked at her and said, "Take the locket with you at least. And the daggers. I know the sword and the bow won't find much use there, but surely you must keep the daggers and the locket to remember me by."

Zihanne smiled wanly, "I would never forget you, my love."

"Then let Avendra wear them. To remember all her family by."

"She must go with me, mustn't she? Thinking of the hardship she will face makes me anxious. Do you think she will survive out there, Ghalad?"

"Yes, she's stronger than most of us often think, I think. Gedwyn believes in her at least."

Zihanne nodded, "Very well, I shall tell Avendra tomorrow. I can tell my mother that we will be leaving in a month. That should be long enough to settle any matters that must be seen to."

* * *

I know that I have been writing much shorter stuff than in the prologue and for that I am deeply sorry. Writing something as long as 4000-something in one go is very exhausting. But I'll try to make it up by making the next chapters very satisfyingly not as short as chapters one and two.

By the way, please Read and Review!!!


	4. Avendra

**Chapter 3:Avendra**

"Mother, you cannot mean it!" Avendra stomped her foot on the ground, the perfect embodiment of stubborn.

Zihanne's expression did not change. "Yes, I mean it, Avendra. I did not want to take you with me, but it is safer if I do. There is much you can learn among my people."

"But Mother, leaving so soon? In a month. It will take me at least two months to fix up some things."

Zihanne sighed, "Very well. I will tell your grandmother that we will remain here two months before we leave." The sleep she had gotten last night still was not enough to make up for losing several weeks of sleep.

* * *

Avendra stomped out of her rooms, intent on the racket that she was producing with each step and strangled shout. She did not let up until she had reached the training yards. The training yards were used by the King's Guard and other warriors to train, but no one so much as looked at Avendra as she stomped by, holding her bow and quiver. Standing a hundred paces from the target she shot mechanically, unconsciously hitting the bull's eye every time. When her quiver was empty, she stomped towards the target and pulled all the arrows out. Positioning herself 200 paces away this time she continued to shoot, forgetting her anger in numb concentration. Only when her quiver was finally empty for the second time did she lower her bow.

There was clapping behind her. Avendra whirled around and came face to face with a tall man with jade green eyes. Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at the stranger for all she was worth. For all that he was far from ugly, which was an understatement, his interruption in her sulking was also far from welcome. After all, one does not want to see a smiling face when one feels more like glaring at the world; misery loves company.

Sniffing, Avendra addressed the man standing before her, "And you are?"

The smiling man took it all in stride and answered without hesitation, "Your newest admirer, my lady." Taking her hand in his, he kissed it.

Avendra snorted in a most unladylike manner, "Yes, and I'm a pig."

The man's eyes grew wide and in an exaggeratedly shocked voice he asked, "You are? Why you don't look it."

In spite of herself, Avendra laughed and the man grinned. His smile made him even more beautiful than he was before, and Avendra had already noticed all the other women nearby glaring at her as if trying to bore holes into her skull.

Suddenly, the man held out his hand, saying, "You can call me Joesh."

Taking his hand and shaking it, Avendra answered, "And you can call me Raziyah."

Looking thoughtful Joesh murmured, "Raziyah meaning agreeable. A very fitting name."

Remembering her recent mood, Avendra blushed.

Joesh studied her for a moment and asked, "Do you wield any other weapon aside from the bow?"

Avendra held up a dagger which had appeared so suddenly that it looked like it had come out of nowhere. Joesh grinned once more, "That _is_ impressive."

Putting on a solemn face, Avendra nodded and said, "Yes, I know."

Joesh laughed. His laughter was so contagious that Avendra couldn't help but laugh along with him.

Wiping the tears streaming from her eyes, Avendra smiled up at Joesh and said, "I take it you are new around here or you would not have approached me when I was in a temper."

"Are you that well-known around here?"

"In a way. You can say that."

"I see..." Joesh's face turned inscrutable. "Do you know how to use a sword?"

Avendra shook her head. "I'm afraid that the person who does teach me how to fight does not want to teach me to use the sword."

Joesh looked slightly disappointed. "Oh, I had hoped that you could be my sparring partner during my stay."

Avendra suggested, "Maybe you could teach me. That way you would be as busy as if you were really taking time to spar."

Joesh looked thoughtful. "Yes. That is a good idea." He suddenly ran off to the corner where a pile of practice swords stood. He chose one and threw it to Avendra who promptly caught it with ease. Joesh nodded his head with approval, "Good. You have quick reflexes."

Avendra looked at him, stunned.

Joesh merely grinned. "Lessons start now."

* * *

The weeks passed by and Avendra trained for several hours each day with Joesh. She was determined to master the blade in two months. Hoping that Joesh would continue to teach her more if he thought that she would be his student for quite a long time, she never told him about her inevitable departure for the Aiel Waste. It was not only her departure that she kept from the strange man who taught her but also her real identity. Joesh only knew her as Raziyah, a girl who hung around the practice courts very often and was well-known enough for her preference to be left alone. He did not know that Avendra had specifically ordered all those who used the practice courts to keep quiet about who she was and to stay away when she was having her lessons.

It seemed that Joesh was satisfied with her speed, determination, and persistence and delighted in teaching her. He said that few were so quick to learn and even fewer were so quick to learn how to master the sword. So Avendra continued to learn and also to puzzle out who Joesh really was because for all that he was unconventional for teaching a girl how to use a sword, he also had a commanding air and a few mannerisms that he would have to explain.

* * *

It was a hot day when Avendra laid down the practice sword on a bench. In two weeks she would be gone, and there was still so much to learn. She had not even held a sword that did not have blunt edges yet.

Joesh sat down beside her on the bench. Without facing him Avendra asked, "Joesh, why weren't you hesitant to teach me how to use a sword? Many men would not even entertain the idea."

Joesh sighed and answered, "Well, Raziyah, I don't mind teaching a woman how to wield a sword, most especially if that young lady is one such as yourself. You learn quickly. I saw it as soon as I saw you drew the bow. It would be a pity to waste so much talent just to please the expectations of society. I do not like waste and even if it is a lady that must learn how to draw a blade, I will teach her if she has the potential."

Avendra nodded as if she finally understood something. She suddenly surprised Joesh when she said, "If all the nobles in Andor are like you, then I think I shall visit that place one day when I am off having my adventures."

Joesh had been drinking a glass of water, but when Avendra made her comment, water sprayed out of his mouth and he started to choke. Trying to collect himself, he asked, "Raziyah, how am I related to the nobles of Andor?"

At this, Avendra's grin grew even wider and she noticed that Joesh had started to sweat a little—teaching her to spar did not really make him sweat, so it was quite noticeable. In a teasing voice she said, "Don't worry. Whoever you're hiding from, your secret is safe with me. I won't ask for your real name. The less I know, the better."

Nodding his head solemnly, Joesh whispered, "Thank you, Raziyah. But I am afraid I can't stay long. I must leave soon. I have lingered here long enough."

Avendra felt disappointment and voiced it out saying, "I hoped you would stay a little longer, just long enough to see me off in two weeks."

Joesh hesitated. Avendra pleaded with him, emerald green eyes wide with hope. "Please."

Sighing, Joesh said, "Very well. Two weeks it is."

Avendra grinned.


End file.
